Untruths
by thatsformetoknow
Summary: They like to think to themselves that they don't know quite how it happened. They like to think that one moment they were locking gazes and the next clothes were being ripped from bodies in a blaze of passion and lust. They like to think to themselves that they couldn't possibly tell who initiated it, just hyper-aware of the other's touch burning at their skin.


They like to think to themselves that they don't know quite how it happened. They like to think that one moment they were locking gazes and the next clothes were being ripped from bodies in a blaze of passion and lust. They like to think to themselves that they couldn't possibly tell who initiated it, just hyper-aware of the other's touch burning at their skin.

This is a lie.

They both know exactly how it happened, but they like to twist the truth because neither of them wants to admit responsibility for it, no matter how enjoyable it was.

So that's how it is, they pretend that they don't know exactly how their stares were boring into each other's souls and then Light leaned forward. Pretend they don't know how he almost hesitated, but didn't, pulling their lips together, but L isn't an innocent in this. They like to pretend they don't know exactly how L's hands were immediately at Light's waist, pulling him closer and pretend they don't know just how he nipped at Light's lips.

How from then on it pretty much was a blaze of passion and lust but not without thought and consequence. Because they are both fully aware that they knew the repercussions that would follow as L went for the buttons down Light's shirt and when Light undid the button of L's jeans.

Fully aware of what they were doing, completely and utterly.

But they pretend that it was in a flurry of moans and gasps because of lips on skin, biting and sucking and clawing down backs and they pretend that they don't remember the details, just the intensity of it all.

But they know just how Light's breath hitched as L slid his boxers off and just how L gasped softly at the contact of skin on skin.

They remember how the chain got in the way quite a bit, how the cold metal clanked against their burning skin, and how Light had cursed the damned thing but L had insisted it had to stay.

They like to think that then everything was happening and it was all so overwhelming with the gasps and groans but it wasn't like that, not really.

Because L knows that it hurt while Light was prepping him and for a moment he even second guessed what they were doing but they pretend, pretend that there wasn't room for deliberating in amongst the sheer pleasure of it all.

But really, L's first yelps were of pain and not pleasure and Light went slow, making sure that L was okay before doing anything of that ilk that could be considered passionate.

They pretend that when it came down to it, they couldn't even tell whose gasps and moans were whose anymore, too wrapped up in the throes of pleasure to even care about silencing themselves.

But they know that it's L that mewls and gasps and its Light that moans and groans, and they know that they tried to silence themselves for fear of someone finding them, and they know that they completely failed at it.

They pretend that they came together in unison, moans and incoherent words on their lips and then they slowed to a stop, their breathing uneven and shaky as they lay there together, catching their breath, content with the easy silence.

But really, L came first, sticky come over his stomach and Light kept thrusting until L was writhing and squirming in discomfort beneath him and he too emptied himself, and then they lay there (that much is true) but the silence is heavy and the air is thick and their breathing is shaky, yes, but they don't quite know what to do with themselves so they sit.

They sit and they pull the duvet over them, catching glances every few seconds, desperate to know what the other is thinking.

So here they are, laying down, Light's arm is lazily draped around L's waist and he doesn't know if that's okay but he isn't receiving any protest so he doesn't move. Their legs are touching under the covers and it's comforting in a way, because maybe they don't know what on earth has just happened and maybe they don't know quite how it occurred but they do, really.

They manage to come to the conclusion as they drift in and out of slumber, that they're pretending as a justification; because they can brush it off, if they don't know who initiated it, or they don't know how it happened, but it did. But they know that Light kissed L and then L kissed back and held Light close to him and maybe it had been a long time coming because they don't feel awkward in the slightest.

Confused, perhaps, but contented. L is the first to succumb, muttering Light's name in his sleep and it's soft and it's kind and it's not entirely unlike his usual tone, but it's different and it's nice.

Light can see the dark circles under L's eyes and it's not a surprise really that he's drifted off so quickly, he silently wonders if he was pretending too.

For Light does not know what on this earth possessed him to kiss L, but he can't quite bring himself to regret it, and he doesn't know what on this earth possessed L to take it further and why he'd responded so eagerly.

So it's easier to say that they just don't know; one moment they were locking gazes and the next clothes were being ripped from bodies in a blaze of passion and lust. It's easier to say that they couldn't possibly tell who initiated it, just hyper-aware of the other's touch burning at their skin.

But that's not true. Not really.

 ** _Comments are greatly appreciated._**


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